


I Got Real Big Plans

by pixeldreamer



Category: Why Don't We (Band)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Loss, M/M, Smut, Vampire Jack Avery, Vampires, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixeldreamer/pseuds/pixeldreamer
Summary: Zach Herron isn't just any college frat boy; he's the shittiest fuckboy on campus with shady rumours surrounding him, although his misogyny is more than just gossip. After just a few weeks of dating him, Jack decides in the beginning of sex with him that it's time to put an end to it.





	I Got Real Big Plans

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this for my friend as a Valentine's Day gift in the middle of our lab class. I decided to publish it after some editing, please don't judge me (also I'm not saying Zach is like this irl, it's just to add to the fucked-upness of this). Sorry if this isn't medically correct, I obviously don't know much about death. Enjoy.

It’s a Thursday night. The sky is hazy and a dim purple, and Zach is watching cars fly by below them from the balcony of Jack’s studio apartment downtown. The outline of skyscrapers are dim as the sun fell slowly dips below the horizon, and in its place the stars shine brightly across the sky of dusk.

“You ready?” He hears Jack behind him, and a hand lays on his shoulder. His touch, even through Zach’s t-shirt, is freezing and sends chills down his spine.

“Yeah.” Zach lingers for a moment, staring out at the city, before following Jack off of the balcony and into the bedroom. The click of the balcony door being shut and the curtains being drawn close off the rest of the world from them. It is only Zach and Jack here, alone to share this moment.

They’ve been kinda-sorta dating, not officially yet but very secretly, for two weeks. Since Jack met Zach, probably the biggest fuckboy on campus, they had been texting and went out on a date to a café. The entire time has felt like a test; Jack’s eyes glued to him in an almost eerie way, watching and observing every move he made.

While Zach is probably the most well-known guy in college for his fuckery, Jack is probably the most obscure. He attends only evening classes and a search for his name on google comes up with nothing related to him, not even any social media. He’s not involved in any clubs, he doesn’t live in the dorms, but he _is_ hot, and that’s the only thing that mattered to Zach. Zach isn’t interested in getting attached to Jack, he never was. He only would fuck him a few times and that would be it, and Zach would move onto whoever he met at the next frat party.

His friends, Corbyn and Daniel, warned him beforehand that Jack is kinda weird. Jack was in Corbyn’s anatomy class and a cadaver has gone missing recently. Of course, it was pure coincidence despite Corbyn insisting otherwise. It was just an unfortunate mishap, and it wouldn’t deter Zach from his goal tonight.

Zach inhales and leans forward for him and Jack’s lips to meet. It starts out sweet and slow, but the kiss gets faster, rougher, demanding. Zach is only reached up to grip his hand in Jack’s curls of hair, when he is straddled and pushed down on the bed by him in response. Apart from their breaths, Zach can only hear the bedframe below them creaking.

Jack notices how the lump in Zach’s pants is already pushing against him, how Zach flicks his hips up in a flourish to get some relief.

“I see you’re just as much of a slut as I thought you were.” Jack whispers against his lips, and then bites Zach’s bottom lip to pull it and let it snap back.

A sting on Jack’s cheek. He only realizes the slapping sound a few moments later.

“Don’t call me a slut.” Zach scolds, too harshly for it to be part of the foreplay.

Jack reaches his hand up to cradle the burning on the side of his face. “Fine. You could have just told me you’re not into that.”

“You could have just not called me a slut. Those drunk girls I have sex with in a random frat house bedroom after they spill whiskey on themselves, _they’re_ sluts who have nothing better to do than open their pussy and make sandwiches. Now, kiss my neck.”

Jack has officially made his decision.

“Which artery?” He asks.

“Excuse me?” Zach demands. “Jack, I know you’re a fucking fag-ass nursing student, but that’s creepy. Literally, hurry and kiss my neck.”

“Carotid it is, then.”

Nails rip into the flesh on the side of Zach’s neck. Jack’s nails press in, ripping through and mauling the thin layer between him and his bloodstream. Zach lets out a horrifying scream, choking on a suddenly bitter taste in his mouth that is the acid rising from his stomach.

The blood drips all over Jack’s slender fingers and smears onto his palms. He tears his fingers out of the crook of the neck, lifts them to his mouth, and his tongue runs over the crimson liquid. Jack gives a small hum of satisfaction as he savors the warm substance, while it trickles down his evil smirk. He slides out his fingers with a pop of his stained lips.

Zach, paralyzed, stops coughing long enough to speak. “You’re fucked up.” He mutters, his trembling hand reaching up to point at him accusingly.

Jack presses Zach’s hand back to the bed. “But you like it, don’t you, you piece of shit?” To prove his point, he runs his bloody hand over the tent in Zach’s pants. Zach moans, but begins coughing again.

The grin on Jack’s face stretches to its widest boundaries, tinted fangs visible and tongue as red as a tomato. He places his hands onto Zach’s hips, thrusting his crotch forward. Jack delves his head in while Zach is still busy hacking a storm up, and the points of his fangs puncture the wound that is desperately attempting to scab over.

One gulp of Zach’s blood, blood that tastes equivalent to most frat boys, of narcotics and cocaine, is bland on Jack’s tongue in comparison to what he sampled from the cadaver the other day. It’s sad, really. Not really tragic in the slightest that Zach will be dead before he graduates, but tragic that Jack has to waste his time doing the world a service getting rid of this misogynistic shit and only getting shitty blood in return. Oh, the things he does for humans.

Swallow by swallow, each lick and sip brings new blood from the depths of his veins to the surface, where it is eagerly drained by Jack. He makes sure to grind on him during the especially deep sucks out of him like a straw, it always annoys people how aroused they get when Jack is literally killing them.

When almost every crevice of Zach’s circulatory system has been explored and Jack’s teeth are dangerously more inwards in his throat than before, he unlatches himself to observe Zach’s face. His lips are already tinged blue, his almost-corpse is shivering. Zach’s eyes are empty and glassy, they stare at Jack in agonized awe. He’s completely aware he’s about to die and that there’s nothing he can do about it, but not that he had it coming.

Jack leans back in, close to whisper in his ear. “I’ve heard about all the things you’ve done.”

Zach doesn’t speak, he inhales sharply in an almost low cry for pity. A bead of blood runs from his nose.

“I heard that you made a girl you impregnated overdose.” Jack says. “I heard you raped the girl I sit next to in my medical Spanish class. I heard you _drowned_ a gay guy in a swimming pool as soon as rumors spread that you fucked.”

With every accusation, Jack grinds into Zach’s groin harder and harder each time. The harder, the harder Zach coughs and struggles for air. The acid in his throat disappears, he coughs up what is left of his blood. His eyes are tearing up. In a hoarse voice that sounds like an aged smoker’s, he pleads, “...please.”

“Aren’t I right, though?” Jack smiles sweetly, wrapping his arms around Zach’s neck and pulling him in to press his nose against his. “You’re out to get the world, Zach Herron, and in return, I’m out to get you. I don’t usually do this; consider yourself special.”

Zach’s face is strained as tears fall and he gasps for breath. “God…”

“Do you really think he’d let you go to heaven after all you’ve done in just 19 years?” Jack giggles. “Silly.” He licks his lips.

Before Zach can say another word, Jack thrusts into him repeatedly. All the blood left in his body is being used by his dick. How utterly useless.

Jack bounces on the area of his clothed dick while Zach is still in a in-the-process-of-dying haze, and moans wickedly. He licks a stripe up Zach’s cheek while he gasps against him, gasps Zach tries to keep in internally but escape anyway, much to Jack’s pleasure.

Zach’s breathing quickens as Jack’s bouncing keeps him awake, and with one final thrust, Zach comes in his pants. It leaks through, wet and sticky, and with that completed, the life fades from Zach’s eyes after one final heave. He drops from Jack’s grasp with a thud on the bed.

What remains is Zach’s white corpse, bedsheets stained all red, and Jack preparing his knife to cut off his limbs and throw the remains and evidence into an incinerator. Maybe he’ll feed his dick to the rats.

Jack lays one final kiss to Zach’s lips before he swings the knife down in one sweep to separate his head from his body.


End file.
